


I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun

by ChronicBookworm



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Eavesdropping, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Oblivious Anne Shirley, Oblivious Gilbert Blythe, Pining, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 20:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17107589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChronicBookworm/pseuds/ChronicBookworm
Summary: Gilbert knew he had changed while gone, seen new things, experienced new things, and had his eyes opened to the ways of the world, but somehow, he had expected Avonlea to remain just the way he had left it.





	I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [midrashic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midrashic/gifts).



Gilbert came back to Avonlea. Not because there might be gold, or because Anne had written to him, of course not, but because he now had a goal to work towards, and where better to do it than at home? He knew he had changed while gone, seen new things, experienced new things, and had his eyes opened to the ways of the world, but somehow, he had expected Avonlea to remain just the way he had left it, despite the discovery of gold (that he didn’t entirely believe in, knowing Anne’s imagination). For the most part, he was right. There had been no gold, only con men. There were no mines where there had been fields, no new workers, no sudden windfall. The same families lived in the same houses, the same stores were there in Carmody as had always been. Gilbert knew he had changed – he felt different. He had seen so much, experienced so much, and now he was coming home and had his own farm to run, and a new life goal. He was on a different level, and for the most part, his classmates were still the children they had been before he left, like he had been before his father died.

But still, things had changed, so subtly he wasn’t sure they themselves were aware of it. His friends and schoolmates were all a year older, and that apparently made a difference. Just to take one random example that had nothing to do with anything, there seemed to be a new connection between Anne Shirley-Cuthbert and Cole Mackenzie. They would trade glances and secret smiles across the aisle separating the girls from the boys, and during recess Anne would sit with him and admire his drawings. Sometimes Cole would even eat his lunch with the girls – not every day, but often enough. Not that it mattered to Gilbert where Anne ate her lunch of course. But it was just one example of how things had progressed when he had imagined Avonlea as this static entity where nothing changed. But he was different and Avonlea was (slightly, marginally, subtly) different, and they had to learn how to live with each other again.

 * 

Gilbert liked winter – even though Bash was having trouble with it. The biting chill of the cold air made him feel alive, and the snow made everything that much brighter at night – it made it merely difficult, and not impossible to see anything. Another thing he truly liked about winter was Christmas. Christmas decorations made everything feel more festive, and he liked how cheerful most people became. It would be different this year, of course, the first Christmas without his father. He’d had a few firsts, this near year he’d been away (his father’s birthday had been particularly hard). But Miss Marilla Cuthbert had been nice enough to invite him and Bash to celebrate Christmas with the Cuthberts, which was extremely kind and thoughtful of her, and Gilbert was quite looking forward to celebrating with Anne – he was sure she’d be the kind who found true joy in Christmas. But first, there was the Christmas panto. Gilbert had thankfully avoided being cast in any particular role, and was working behind the scenes – Anne was a tree, and while both she and Mrs Lynde insisted it was a very important role, he wasn’t sure there wasn’t some secret insult hidden there – especially since Josie Pye had been cast as The Boy, and a less likely boy had to be searched long for. But who was he to argue with Mrs Lynde? Aside from being cast as The Boy, Anne had thrown herself into decorating the set, especially with poor Cole Mackenzie still unable to do anything due to his hands. She seemed to take great delight in being his pair of hands, and Gilbert could often see the pair of them bent over some piece of scenery.

Gilbert scowled. He should be paying attention to his own scenery, not to Anne and Cole. It was difficult work, made all the more difficult by having nobody to hold it steady while he sawed, and once he was determined to focus on himself, he found it took all his attention to hold the board steady and operate the saw at the same time. In fact, he was so engrossed in his work, he did not notice anyone approaching until a shadow fell over his work.

“Do you need any help?”

He jumped at the sound of the voice.

“Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you!” Anne Shirley-Cuthbert said. “I thought you heard me. Normally I make so much noise clomping around, Marilla says she can hear me coming in the kitchen when I’m at the gate! I shall have to tell her I managed to sneak up on you today, she’ll never believe it.”

Gilbert tried to hide his scowl again. She kept catching him wrong-footed – he’d feel bad, but he had the feeling he did the same to her, given how often she seemed to say exactly the wrong thing to him and realise only seconds after she said it.

“I was just focused on my work,” he said.

“Well, that’s why I came over,” she replied. “I thought you might need help?”

“Aren’t you working with Cole?”

“Oh, I have been most grievously replaced: Diana’s taken over my place, so he sent me along to you. Apparently, she has more patience for the fine detail than I do. I try to go too fast, and then I mess up, and then I make a muddle out of it.”

“Well, you can help me hold this steady while I saw,” he said. “I doubt you can muddle that up too much.”

“Oh, I’m certain I shan’t,” she said brightly. “I shall hold it steady as a rock, standing fast against the everchanging nature of the elements as the sea batters it from beyond. Is that not the most splendid image?”

“It sure is,” he said, amused. “I shall try to be somewhat calmer than the sea bashing against the cliff.”

She held the board steady, and he went back to sawing.

“You make for a fine cliff,” he told her. “Very steady.”

“And you make for a fine sea,” she replied.

She smiled at him, that wide smile of hers that lit up her entire face. He didn’t understand the people who said Anne wasn’t pretty. Sure, maybe she wasn’t as strikingly beautiful on first glance as Diana might be, but when she smiled like that, or when she was caught up in some imagine of hers that made her eyes shine in delight, she was a pretty as Diana any day. Why, even her red hair and freckles were charming in their own way, even though she herself made no secret of how much she hated them (Josie Pye thought Anne cut her hair off because she had lice, but Gilbert was almost certain it was because she didn’t want to look at her red hair any more – it seemed like the sort of thing she might have done in a fit of passion, and then immediately regretted).

They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes.

“I suppose I should train up my sawing, in case I happen to have to perform any amputations when I’m a doctor,” he said, mainly to get conversation started between them again.

“I really don’t suppose a village doctor sees much cause for amputating,” she said shortly, “so I don’t see how this applies.”

It was such an abrupt change from her early friendly demeanour that he was a bit taken aback. What had he done that would make her change so quickly? Anne might be flighty, but she wasn’t capricious the way some girls were. He didn’t think she was squeamish, so it couldn’t have been the mention of amputations that did it? And then it hit him. Of course. He’d been an idiot – things had gone just fine until he’d mentioned his future career plans. Anne didn’t know what she wanted to be yet, he was fairly certain, apart from more than just a housewife, whereas Gilbert had been very open about his new ambitions. It couldn’t be nice to see someone she considered a rival pull ahead of her in something she cared about, even if Gilbert himself didn’t care? Everyone apart from Anne herself realised that obviously she was going to be amazing at whatever she set her mind to – she really didn’t need to decide yet.

“I wonder if Mrs. Lynde will have us in shape before the premiere,” he said to change the subject in a peace offering.

“I have great faith in Mrs. Lynde’s capabilities to get other people to do as she wants,” she said in reply, and even if her smile wasn’t as broad as it had been, it had returned to her face, so that was something.

 * 

There was a little hut in the middle of the forest, surrounded by odd clay figures. It was clearly in use – he could see smoke coming from the little chimney, but it really didn’t look at all solid or stable enough for someone to live there. It seemed like such an odd place for a shack like that.

He heard giggles from inside.

“I don’t believe you, Anne,” said Diana Barry’s voice excitedly, and that explained it. _Of course_ this hut was Anne’s – it seemed so obvious in retrospect. Who else would have their own little hut in the middle of the woods but Anne Shirley-Cuthbert? He supposed that made the figures Cole’s, and wondered if that was what Cole had being doing with his days since he stopped coming to school. Not that it was any skin off Gilbert’s back what Cole Mackenzie did with his days, or what Anne, Cole and Diana got up to in their secret hut in the middle of the forest, of course. And since he didn’t care, he was going to turn around right now and stop eavesdropping on whatever scandalous gossip or make-believe Anne had just told Diana.

“All this talk about how ugly you are and how nobody will love you, and yet you’re the first of us to be engaged,” Diana continued.

Gilbert stopped walking, almost as if he’d hit a wall, but all there was in front of him was air. _Anne_ was _engaged_? How could this be? Who was the fellow? How could she know who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with at their age? He knew she was prone to flights of fancy and often let her romanticism run away with her, but this was surely beyond anything she’d done before! How could Miss Cuthbert and Mr Cuthbert allow it when she was only 14? And _who was the man_?

“Don’t look at me like that, Diana, it’s not at all what you think. Cole and I just have an understanding, that’s all.”

Gilbert wished he could see their facial expressions. He could imagine what Anne must look like, all earnest and dreamy, but perhaps she was looking more mischievous and secretive, and that would of course change the meaning of what she said entirely. So much of what Anne said could be read in her face. But without seeing her face, ‘just an understanding’ sounded pretty serious to him, more so than her tone of voice implied. Was she really in love with Cole Mackenzie?

“That sounds like an engagement to me,” said Diana. “But how will that work, when he’s…” she trailed off.

“It’s a last option engagement,” said Anne. “If neither of us has met our intended by a certain age, we will marry each other and live together as individuals. Of course, I’d rather marry for love than a marriage of convenience, but isn’t there something romantical in two friends, both disappointed in love, spending their lives side by side in quiet companionship? At least, that’s the way I like to think of it.”

That put a new spin on it. Gilbert felt a sense of relief at hearing it – he would hate for Anne to rush into an engagement too young and then feel honour-bound to hold to it. Not that he thought Cole would be the kind of man to force a woman into a marriage she didn’t want to, but still… He also didn’t like the thought of Anne and Cole being trapped in a loveless marriage – what if Anne then found a man or Cole a woman to love? He wanted the best for his friends, so naturally the thought of Anne and Cole marrying without love made him uncomfortable. But maybe they would grow to love each other over the course of the marriage – he knew several people who had not married for love, but had grown together over their lives. Strangely, that thought didn’t make him feel better.

“The companionship I can understand, but I don’t believe anything about you could ever be considered quiet,” Diana teased.

“Well, he can be the quiet one,” Anne conceded. “He will be an artist, and I will be… whatever I am, and I know he won’t ever make me not go to college or give up on my dreams, the way _some people_ do,” she said, suddenly fierce.

It had become known just the other day that Prissy Andrews wasn’t going to college, and most people Gilbert knew thought it was a shame. He couldn’t imagine Anne staying long with anyone who would force her to give up her dreams like that, but then, who would even want to, apart from people like Mr. Phillips and that kind? Keeping someone like Anne Shirley-Cuthbert penned in and pent up, why that would practically be criminal!

“I bet Gilbert Blythe would even encourage his wife to be independent and live her own life,” Diana said, uncomfortable echoing his thoughts from just seconds before. Gilbert was aware that many of the girls seemed to have crushes on him, he’d have to be both blind and deaf not to – and that was part of what was so refreshing about Anne, that she didn’t go all silly or mute whenever she was around him. But he still didn’t like to be reminded of that constantly, and he really hadn’t thought Diana was one of them – she seemed like she was slightly more sensible than the others.

“I don’t see what Gilbert Blythe has to do with it,” Anne said crossly, and even though he had just thought that what was so refreshing about Anne was that she didn’t constantly preen for his attention, he still couldn’t help but feel a little twinge – after all, who enjoyed being put down? He found he really didn’t want to stay any longer to hear more about what they might think of him. Besides, there was plenty of work at the farm, and he really didn’t have time to stand here and lollygag.

 *

With Bash as part owner of the farm, things became both easier and harder, bureaucratically. Easier because Bash was a legal adult, whereas Gilbert was not, harder because of the colour of Bash’s skin. Which was terrible, but they found ways to work around it anyway. There were certain times when Gilbert had to make the trip up to Charlottetown himself to see the solicitor.

It was on one of those trips, when, getting off the train, he saw Anne Shirley-Cuthbert run into the waiting arms of Cole Mackenzie. They hugged each other tightly and exclaimed over how much they’d missed each other, and how Avonlea wasn’t the same without him, and how much he liked living with Miss Barry, who understood him. Gilbert was glad Bash hadn’t come with him on this trip – if he’d been there, he’d no doubt have read too much into the way Gilbert slowed down and ducked out of sight, so he could continue listening in (because, as it was not the first time it had happened, there was no use lying to himself about what it was he was doing). There was a third person with them, and once Anne and Cole had stopped exclaiming in joy at each other, Cole cleared his throat almost shyly and said:

“I have someone I want you to meet. This is my very good friend Ezekiel Wainwright. He’s a poet, and an artist, like me. We have the same life drawing tutor.”

“Oh, how splendid!” Anne exclaimed in delight, shaking his hand with enthusiasm. “I am most delighted to make your acquaintance, and I believe I like you already, since you are important to Cole.”

“Please call me Zeke,” said Ezekiel Wainwright.

“Oh, but Ezekiel is such a wonderful name!” said Anne. “The Bible is full of sublime names for men, but women’s names are very plain, like Rachel – nothing against Mrs. Lynde,” she added hurriedly, “Ruth, Leah, Rebecca, or Esther. They don’t have nearly the same poetry to them like the men’s names, like Ezekiel, or Jeremiah, or Ishmael. Doesn’t that just sound like a wondrous name? Jeremiah Ishmael Wainwright.”

“There are many plain names for men too, like Matthew, Joseph, Thomas, John, or Matthew,” said Ezekiel Wainwright. “I suppose there’s just more men’s names, both usual and unusual.”

“I suppose so,” Anne said. “I hadn’t thought of it. Well, obviously I had thought about there being more men, but I hadn’t drawn the conclusions one step further about what that would mean about names. Well, Mr Ezekiel Wainwright, I am inclined to like you already, since you are important to my dear friend Cole, but I believe I shall like you very much for your own sake.”

As the group wandered off, Gilbert spent a few minutes observing Anne and Cole, but he couldn’t see anything that would indicate more than friendship in their manner – even their hug had been more friendly than romantic. There seemed to be no hidden affections between them, despite their “engagement”. Not that it would matter either way to him. In fact, if he were to judge, Wainwright and Cole seemed more affectionate, for they kept trading sly glances, and more than once Cole’s hand brushed against Wainwright’s in a way that could seem accidental, but Gilbert doubted actually was.

The thought hit him with such force he had to stop walking for a second, causing a man in a suit to swear at him, but – if that _were_ the case, if Cole had romantic feelings about boys, it would explain why they would make an arrangement. And then he had the subsequent thought. _Was Anne like Cole?_ Did Anne like girls, rather than boys? He hadn’t been away long, but he had been away long enough to know that such things were possible, probably even more common than anybody knew.

He wondered why the thought of Anne liking girls bothered him so much, when he had no issues at all with Cole liking boys. He’d felt this way before, he realised, when he first heard of Anne and Cole’s engagement. There was something there, he knew, and – oh. Right. So that was a thing. Apparently, it was time to stop lying to himself and face up to the fact that he apparently had romantic feelings for Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, and had had for a while (since she beat him in the spelling bee? Since she broke a slate over his head? Since he rescued her from Billy Andrews and she wouldn’t tell him her name? Impossible to say for how long it had been a thing, but clearly it had been for some time). He had a suspicion Bash already knew, and would probably never let him hear the end of it.

He was unavoidably distracted during the meeting with the solicitor.

 * 

Realising that what he felt for Anne was romantic didn’t change very much in practice. Gilbert, Mary and Bash took care of the farm, a job that was significantly easier with the three of them all helping out, and during his free hours, Gilbert studied for his entrance exams. There were six of them going for the exams in the spring, including Gilbert and Anne, and every Wednesday Miss Stacy held classes after school to help them. They also had extra sessions without Miss Stacy, but with whoever could make it, on Saturdays. Gilbert tried to make sure he was at the ones where Anne was.

It was almost painful to be in the same room as her, but he wouldn’t miss it for the world. It was worth it, to see her light up the room with her presence, unconsciously drawing every eye to her with her magnetism, spreading joy and enthusiasm with every word from her lips.

Even though Anne’s hut had been destroyed, she still used the woods as her haunts, and he occasionally ran into her, with or without an accompaniment of Diana Barry and Ruby Gillis. He much preferred the times she was without them, and he got her all to himself for a few moments.

Winter gave way to spring, which gave way to summer, which gave way to winter again.

“Winter is my favourite season,” she said during one of these chance meetings in the woods. “The snow makes everything so white and pretty, especially when frost wraps around the tree branches like blankets. Is there anything better than sitting by a crackling fire feeling warm and snug while the snow lights up the yard outside, and seeing the lights from far-off houses giving a sense of comfort and togetherness in the darkness?”

“It’s pretty cold, though,” he said. He’d also heard her say her favourite season was spring (the season of new life and blossoming flowers), summer (the season of the warm sunlight and days that extend well into the night), and autumn (the season where the trees turn beautiful colours and the world looks like painted with fire). Gilbert personally liked late spring and early autumn, the seasons where one could do outside work without temperatures making it uncomfortable.

“Oh, but the cold is part of what makes it good! Feeling the bite of chill in your cheeks, it’s really invigorating. Of course, there are few things worse than the cold when you don’t have proper clothes for it, but now that I’m with Matthew and Marilla, that’s not a problem anymore.”

They walked together in silence for a few minutes, until Gilbert could barely take it any longer. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they said. He drew a breath, and ventured.

“Could you give me advice?” he asked.

“I can certainly try,” Anne responded cheerfully.

“There’s a girl I have liked for a while now. I was wondering if you could help me work out what to say to her so she understands I want to court her.”

There was a pause, and Anne’s voice decidedly less cheerful when she said:

“Well, I suppose you could tell her what about her you like. Say she has a pretty smile, or absorbing eyes, or that her laugh sets your soul alight.”

He stopped walking.

“You have a pretty smile, and absorbing eyes, and your smile sets my soul alight,” he said.

She stopped too, a few paces in front of him. She didn’t turn around, but he could hear her draw in a breath.

“Are you being serious, or are you joking right now?”

“I have never been more serious in my life. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, I am in love with you.”

Silence. He’d laid himself bare before her, and now it was up to her.

She turned around to face him. A slow smile spread across her face. Her eyes glistened. It looked a little like they were watering, but it could just be the sun. His heart seemed to have stopped as he slowly extended a hand. She caught it and they stood in the middle of the woods, hands clasped together.

“Gilbert Blythe, I am in love with you, too,” she said. "I imagined this moment so much, and I was going to make a poetic speech about how joyous I felt, but now i'ts happening I scarcely have words to express myself, except to echo those paltry words back to you, which seem so small, but still can mean the whole world."

They didn't seem small at all, to Gilbert.

“I don't need poetry or grand speeces - those small words will do just fine for me," he said, guiding their clasped hands up towards her cheek. "How long have you been in love with me?”

“I will borrow the words from a far better wordsmith than me: I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun. How long for you?”

“Probably since you broke a slate over my face. I’ve known since I became unreasonably relived that you weren’t going to marry Cole Mackenzie.”

“Poor Gilbert! How you must have suffered, thinking I was going to marry someone else.”

“It took all I had not to hate Cole,” he admitted, still with his hand on her cheek. 

“Hate Cole! How could you possibly?” she exclaimed.

“I couldn’t. That’s what made it so difficult.”

“Does this mean you are going to court me?” she asked. “Oh, I have always wanted to be courted!”

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, it would be my honour to court you.” He was going to have to ask Mr. Cuthbert for permission, he realised, and do it properly. He’d carry her books, and bring her gifts, but what else did one do when courting? He’d ask Bash.

“I did not know it was possible to feel this happy,” Anne said. “My soul sparkles with delight. It’s as if someone had asked me what I most wished for, and then known to give it to me before I could even respond. I feel as if a strong gust of wind could lift me up, and I’d float away like a feather, up to the clouds, and dance with the angels in the soft rays of sun. I feel as though someone's handed me the moon... and I don't exactly know what to do with it. Oh, Gilbert, how rapturous our life shall be!”

Gilbert could definitely relate to how she felt. Only look forward to the rest of their rapturous life together.


End file.
